


Incoherent Liquid of Desire

by troubleseeker



Series: kinktober 2018 [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Art Exhibition, Artist Castiel (Supernatural), Bondage, Castiel is a dick, Champagne, Crack, Dildos, Edging, Fake Come, Forniphilia, Human Furniture, I have gone mad, Impaled, JUST LOOK AT THIS, Kinktober 2018, Male Models, Model Dean Winchester, Model Sam Winchester, No actual sex, Overstimulation, Predicament Bondage, Suspension Bondage, Urethral Play, Vibrators, did i write, female models, gallery, living art, pretentious explanations, public, whT the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker
Summary: kinktober day 15 -Forniphilia (Human Furniture) | Overstimulation |Intercrural Sex |UniformsCastiel Novak is a world famous artist who brings onlookers to their knees with beauty, emotion, and movement; true living art. (his words, not mine) When he finds a moment of peace during his latest exhibition - invitation only gala, of course - he takes a stroll past some of his pieces whille he waits for the next enthralled reporter to cling to every word he graces them with.





	Incoherent Liquid of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Watch me dip my toes into madness! This is what my brain is coming up with ... holy shit.

Castiel smiled, nodded, signed autographs and posed graciously for pictures; accepting compliments and awe from his many _many_ fans and sponsors. They were in the right, this really was his best exposition so far. The large baroque halls inspired by Versailles’ room of mirrors was the perfect location to display his newest collection.

During a lull in conversation, he sidestepped away from the group and took a stroll past his work. He’d worked tirelessly on them all. It was only right that he admire them in the ideal setting. Now that he’d set everything in motion he too was nothing but an onlooker … mesmerised by the wonders he’d created.

This must be what God felt when he looked down upon the earth.

There was no set path to walk the exhibition. Patrons were set free in the halls to explore the wonders in their own way. So he headed for the work closest to him. Cas smiled wistfully at the installation. Title written in gold script on black card; far enough to the side that it didn’t interfere with the work itself.

_The Interior of Lust_

“It’s beautiful.” A woman in a tastefully revealing dress whispered.

Cas nodded, appreciating her hushed tone. They were the only people looking at the piece, and it did deserve some reverence.

“What does it mean?”

He sipped his champagne to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the woman. The masses - and yes, that included the invitation only crowd on opening night -  really did need to be educated. Luckily, most saw the light once he spoke to them.

“Art never has just one meaning.” Cas stepped forward, inviting the woman to inch ever closer to the platform. “Whatever the artist was thinking while they created beauty, it is only the eye of the beholder who can create,” he waved at the intricately bound man writhing in pleasure and denial: “an interpretation.”

Her eyes widened, and Castiel knew he’d converted another soul. Yes. He smiled, and took another sip of gold tinged sparkling wine.

“Of course, I do have my own story,” He gestured at the space around them, vaguely including the other installations in the collection in his statement. “for each of my works. But they aren’t any more correct than what you see in them.”

Pink flushed across her cheekbones, bleeding through cleverly done make-up. He drew her attention back to the art instead of his own smile.

“What do _you_ think it means?”

“Oh!” She clutched her champagne flute, lacquered nails clicking nervously as she tried to organise her thoughts into something semi-artistic. Cas waited patiently. Not everyone was born to this.

She cleared her throat, taking in _The Interior of Lust_ more closely, and Cas joined her in staring at the lines of muscle and skin; all bound up in a venomous green rope.

“Well. He’s blindfolded, so. He might represent how we’re all blind in our own lust?” Cas nodded. It was a very primitive way of explaining it, but it wasn’t _terrible_ either. She went on. “And his hands and arms are bound behind his back, so he can’t try to take it off. So while we’re blind of our lusts, we’re unable to make ourselves see them?”

“Very good. Very good.” Cas drank in her sincere smile. “Now what about he’s doing?”

“Oh! Of course. Um_ Well. He’s fucking himself on a dildo. So that must be the lust bit. He’s seeking out pleasure even though he can’t see what’s happening. Maybe the urge to come, is a fundamental human one, and something we can’t run away from.”

Castiel hummed, taking her elbow to guide her ever forward, leaning in to look closer to the blindfolded man working up a sweat.

“Now look at the details. The broad strokes tell a story, but it’s the details that whisper truths.”

She bit at her lip, eyes flitting all over the piece of moving art. The rope harness forced the model’s shoulders back, exposed his chest. His heart. Knees rubbing against the platform as he raised and lowered himself near tirelessly onto the bronze dildo. It wasn’t actual metal, of course. That would sadly be a health hazard, but the softer silicone material had been coloured with metallic particles that caught the light and played perfectly off of skin that would soon be glistening.

She pulled back. Eyebrows pulling down in irritation.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m seeing it.”

“Sam! Freeze.”

The model froze, chest heaving as he sat transfixed halfway down the dildo.

“Oh!” The woman gasped, hand covering her mouth as she finally spotted the smoking gun. “He’s, oh my!”

“Continue.” Sam groaned as he sank down, no doubt glad he could move rather than torture his thighs by hovering. “Yes, his urethra is plugged. It’s a rod that goed quite a way into his erection, and is held in place with the ring around the head of his penis.”

“So he can’t come?”

Castiel shook his head, glad that she understood.

“Wow! He’s blind and trying to find completion, but no matter how hard he works or lusts after the things he cannot see or know he cannot achieve them.”

“That is a wonderful way to look at it, miss.” Castiel smiled at her. Perhaps she wasn’t a complete novice after all, and merely flustered by his presence. “A good piece to look at after _The Interior of Lust_ , is _The Literature of Greed_.”

She followed his gracefully arching finger, eyes falling on yet another marvelous piece of living art. A woman in a sheer dress, desperately keeping her hand on the button that controlled the vibrator tied down to her pubis **.** Release the button, and the toy ceased its pleasing buzz. The task was of course made more difficult by the gap in the platform between her and the button. She had to lean forward, and move back every time people moved in between the platforms.

Contrasting with _The Interior of Lust_ , She did not wear a blindfold and her frustration and pleasure were readable in her eyes.

“Of course, I’ll go have a look.” The woman smiled, and nodded her head. “Thank you so much for the insights, sir.”

Castiel nodded, sending her on her way with a wave of his hand.

His watch told him he had another interview scheduled in ten minutes, so he headed straight for one of his favorite works. Like any good parent, he loved each and every one of the installations here today, but there was always a favorite.

_Incoherent Liquid of Desire_

He’d found the model through Sam. They were brothers, and both in excellent physical condition. Something he required of all his actors. Unless there was an emergency, no one would be leaving their platforms for several hours.

This was _art_. And art took time. He’d set them all up with care and dedication.

Living, breathing, moving, pieces of artistry.

_Incoherent Liquid of Desire_ had drawn a crowd. Castiel had known it would. He’d worked on it tirelessly for months!

Tweaking the setup, the ropework, the model, the colours.

He’d been sure the whole project would have to be scrapped. And then Dean had walked in. Beautiful and expressive and strong enough to take what would inspire the thousands of visitors who would walk by him over the next few weeks, and then probably more during the tours.

The model was suspended by an intricately tied harness. Ankles tied to his thighs he had no way to try and support himself even though he hung no more than four feet off the ground. Ass impaled perfectly on a dildo that was more sculpture than sex toy.

The statue of a minotaur, bulls head thrown back in a scream of desire, was mostly stone; ending in a very large phallus that had been cast in silicone two dozen times before it blended seamlessly with the rest of the sculpture.

One stone hand was raised, giving Dean something to grab hold of while he struggled. As long as the model was connected with the hand in some way, the harness held him steady.

As Castiel and the gathered crowd watched, Dean released his lifeline, and tried to claw at the rope that dangled above him. It was his only way to get off the slowly widening phallus, but, of course, no artwork is so simple. The connection with the hand lost, the harness started lowering him down. Gravity and his own bodyweight doing the work of impaling him further?

Dean’s sounds were magnificent as he inevitably slid down. He tried to reach for the rope that would save him, that would let him pull up and away. But every second that he failed to grasp it, he sank down. Farther away from it.

Castiel eyed the golden line set in a ring around the dildo and a mere fraction of an inch away from Dean’s stretching rim. The instant Dean sank low enough to trigger it, the bull would roar, and his carefully sculpted dick would start vibrating as it oozed a lube that very closely resembled come. The ring around the struggling model’s erection would start buzzing too, and he’d seen how Dean fell apart.

He’d struggle every time he was placed into the artwork, but without fail he’d fail to pull himself all the way off. Then a mixture of design and exhaustion would drive him down, down, down. Unable to withstand the pleasure and the desire.

A true masterpiece.

By the end of the night, everything below Dean’s hole would be covered in the _Incoherent Liquid of Desire_ and all who had seen his struggle would have learned something about themselves.

“Mister Novak, sir?”

It was a struggle to not snap at the poor server tasked with retrieving him for his interview. Hands cuffed behind her back, and naked but for an apron, she offered the milling guests a selection of drinks from her tray.

“Yes?”

He knew why she was here, but it was polite to listen to the staff. The press didn’t like it when he brushed away the accomplishments of his workers and models. As if they’d be anywhere as good without him. He was a gift to the world, working _through_ others.

“Your presence is requested in the blue room, sir.”

“Of course it is.” He nodded, setting his empty glass on her tray and picked up another one. Champagne again, of course, but tinted with silver this time. With their hands cuffed to fit in with the theme of the exhibition, Castiel had designed something special.

One end of the tray rested against her stomach - cleverly attached to the apron so it could not slip - while the other end was attached to the server’s exposed nipples with thin chains and sturdy clips. It added a certain aesthetic to the whole thing.

Taking a quick and fortifying sip, Castiel glanced at _Incoherent Liquid of Desire_ again. He’d managed to reach the rope, arms straining as he tried to lift himself even the slightest bit. The harness would lock him in on the higher spot if he managed it, but he’d have to be fast in grabbing the statue’s hand for that.

Castiel knew he’d have time again to see Dean’s progress later in the evening. He turned back to the waitress, and then towards the blue room where some exited journalist awaited his arrival.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick [sketch](https://66.media.tumblr.com/3943794a729ffb75e95d06514b36ea05/tumblr_ptr2scBO5i1supwr8_540.jpg) if you wanna see the pose!
> 
>  
> 
> If you want to come yell at me on [tumblr](http://ryugarika.tumblr.com/) ... feel free to, I can take it.
> 
> Comments feed me!
> 
> Check back tomorrow, for ... nipple play and body worship! The weather stays warm and loving, but there's a bite to it.


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